


Uruha's Prisoner of War

by VampireHydeFTW



Category: Lycaon (Band), the GazettE
Genre: M/M, Military, S&M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 09:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3406130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireHydeFTW/pseuds/VampireHydeFTW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been a decade since the war had began and Uruha hadn't seen a single day of it. Content to remain in charge of a Prisoner of War camp Uruha faces the dark desires he keeps within himself, the silent belief that he's more like the enemy than his own kin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uruha's Prisoner of War

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kyoselflove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyoselflove/gifts).



They'd been at war for a decade now, but Uruha had seen none of it. He didn't particularity want to either, he was more than content commanding this prison camp where the worse injury he had suffered was a bruised arm from walking into a door handle one night. If he was on the front lines he'd fight off course, he was no coward, but he didn't want to put his life at risk either.

Every night he prayed for the war to end, he was sick of seeing these ridiculous men from their neighbouring country. It was all about extreme fashion there with bright colours being more than popular, it seemed every man in this camp had come in with dyed hair, red, blue, orange, green, not one prisoner had natural hair here. In fact guards and prisoners alike had started to refer to a prisoners time here, not in days or months, but in how many inches of dark roots had grown out while they had been living here.

Uruha himself had once died his hair blond, back before the war had started, but now he walked the line of a good citizen. Dying your hair had almost become a criminal act in his country since they went to war, unless you were covering up greys dying your hair was next to unheard of. Women wore natural make-up, and fashion was plain and practical, as far away from the enemy as they could possibly get. If he was been truthful to himself, Uruha missed dressing up. He missed his blond hair and the stage make-up he had worn when he still dreamed of being a rock star. He was more like the enemy than his own kin and it made him feel sick inside to think about it.

He had been thinking about it though, that morning after he had discovered an old pair of contact lenses in the back of his drawer. He'd worn them too, once, and he prayed one day it would be acceptable for him to wear them again. The temptation to wear them now caused Uruha to lock the door and gently place the blue contact lenses into his eyes. There was some black lipstick too which he used to paint his lips, some dark eyeline and eyeshadow came next and he smiled at the reflection in the mirror. He looked positively evil and that gave him an idea, perhaps he could wear this out of his room after all.

“Takashima-Sama?” a guard stammered as he stepped out of the room. He was in shock that his General would dress this way. Off course he was, a look this extreme would only usually be seen on the enemy, with the except of Uruha's jet black hair off course.

“Do I look ridiculous?” Uruha asked. “I'm trying to make a point.”

“You look like one of them.” The guard said, cautiously. Uruha didn't have a temper, but he was kinder when he was in a good mood. To his own men at least.

“Like I belong in a freak show.” Uruha agreed, his smile dazzling now. This could work, it really could.

“Yes?” The guard replied, guessing this was the answer Uruha wanted to here. It was the reaction Uruha had hoped for, but inside he wasn't too pleased. He looked good, sexy as hell in fact! He turned himself on, which meant it was time to find someone to help him find some kind of sexual release. Homosexuality off course was a sin, everyone in his country knew it, but that didn't stop the urges he felt deep inside. He despised that part of himself, but it was the prisoners in the camp who took the punishment for it.

 

Walking through the yard, putting on a show as if dressing like them was all an act to show them just how ridiculous they looked, Uruha studied the faces before them. A three incher he had abused before, so many times that he was now bored of that blue haired made worse by the dark roots that now showed. A six incher, he'd used him a year before hadn't he? The green and brown now looked deliberate, as if he had only dipped the bottom half of his hair in the dye. That had been the fashion once in their neighbouring land. But the split ends were entirely unappealing. Half an inch, tempting. He was about to pick the young man when he spotted the new men. That was the man, the one he was going to take back to his room when he was done. He didn't even know his name, not yet, but he would do soon.

“Bring me the pink haired fool.” Uruha demanded, his guards marching the young man in front of the others. Oh he was perfect. From his gentle features to his plump lips and soft looking hair that fell past his shoulders in waves of vivid pink. Uruha would have fun with him. “Do you know who I am?”

“General Takashima-Sama.” the man stammered, his accent very much foreign as if he hadn't quite mastered to speak any language other than his own. He was younger than Uruha, perhaps about the same age he had been when he first took this job, and he looked afraid. There was something about him that pulled Uruha in, as if they were kindred spirits. Once again he realised just how much he was like the enemy and not like his allies. If their situations were reversed, he'd be the pampered young man who had never seen a day of hardship in his life, staring up at a General who had already decided his fate. The thought trouble him and made him even more determined to punish this man for making him feel that way.

“Do you think I look like a clown?” Uruha asked.

“I think you look beautiful, sir.” the cocky young man replied. In an instance Uruha had slapped him, his anger boiling inside him now along with his pride. He was beautiful, especially like this, but this man wasn't supposed to think so! It made punishing him easy though.

“Have you not listened to a word I said?” Uruha demanded. “Here I am, dressed like a fool, to show you ignorant bastards just how ridiculous I look, and you say I look beautiful?”

“You do.” the man replied, his eyes meeting Uruha's in a challenge. Accepting a riding crop from another officer Uruha lashed out at the boy again. A harsh whip to the shoulder, so not to damage that gorgeous face. Even twisted in pain the pink haired man was irresistible. Once again Uruha tried to get the man to apologise, once again he ended up whipping the boy. It was like he wanted to be punished. The exchange continued a few times, all guards and prisoners waiting for the result. Off course anyone who had been here awhile knew where this was ending up. Uruha always picked boys like this one to take to his bedroom. Did this boy know this? Was he behaving this way because it was what he wanted? Or was he just too new to understand what was going to happen?

“Maybe you should cut that hair off?” one of his own guards suggested. “Teach him some humiliation.” It was the last thing Uruha wanted to do, but now he was on the spot he had to think fast.

“Pink hair on a man should be more humiliating than a bald scalp.” Uruha declared, the look he gave the guard speaking volumes. “Take him to my room.”

 

“What's your name?” Uruha asked as he entered his bedroom.

“Yuuki.” the man answered, his eyes watching Uruha warily. The guards had beaten him on the way here, on his face too, which annoyed Uruha. He didn't want a man with a bruise on his cheek like the angry one that Yuuki already wore. Sometimes it would kill of his sexual urges, but Yuuki was still beautiful to him. Especially now he wore handcuffs that kept him firmly attached to one of the posts on his four poster bed. One of the few luxury items he had taken from his own home and yet another reason he was glad he didn't actually have to fight in this war.

“Yuuki.” Uruha repeated. “The name of a man looking forward to a public whipping.”

“I won't change my mind. I think your beautiful.” Yuuki declared and this time Uruha allowed himself to smile. He released Yuuki from his handcuffs and ordered him to strip away his clothes. Some men tried to fight back at this point, and he expected Yuuki to be one of them. He was pleasantly surprised to find Yuuki simply stripped away his clothes. The submissive act an insult in itself. Yuuki wasn't fighting because he was so sure of his opinion on the way Uruha looked that he would accept any punishment without fuss.

Uruha half wanted to not hurt Yuuki now, just leave him in solitary confinement until his spirit was broken, but he couldn't afford to lose face either. Weakness in this place would have him eaten alive.

“Step on the balcony, I want every man to witness your humiliation.” Uruha ordered. Smiling as Yuuki turned and did as ordered. The balcony was the perfect place to do this, with it's thin iron bars and position over the courtyard every man below would see every inch of Yuuki's skin while he could remain inside. Enjoying the pleasure from the shadows, the balcony too small to fit them both in the position Uruha had in mind.

Roughly grabbing Yuuki by the wrists he carefully wrapped the handcuffs around the bars before snapping both ends shut over his wrists. Secured like this Uruha ordered Yuuki to bend over, smiling in surprise when Yuuki obeyed. Something about his demeanour more than suggested that Yuuki actually wanted this. More sure than ever that Yuuki had volunteered himself Uruha wondered if he should even continue. If pain and perversion was what Yuuki wanted, perhaps the cruellest thing would be to just leave him here?

It would be losing face, Uruha decided. Refusing to accept that it was his own desires that kept him on this track. He didn't enjoy this, he was just punishing these sinful men. That's what he told the guards though it was far from the truth. He loved the perversion of being with a man just as much as he enjoyed wearing make-up and dressing up in stage clothes from a forgotten age. At least this uniform suited him, that was the only positive side of having to wear the same thing almost every day.

He picked up a metal bar, placing it on the floor behind Yuuki and forcing the young man to spread his legs. It was a spreader bar from a sex shop and he almost always used it when he took men to his room, especially when the sex was going to be public like this.

“Keep that ass towards me.” Uruha ordered, his gaze lingering longer than it should on the others lower half.

Crop in hand Uruha began his show, punishing Yuuki with a mixture of lashes and insults, knowing every man outside could see and hear every one of Yuuki's reactions. He didn't ask him to retract his previous statements, didn't ask Yuuki for anything at all. Yuuki wouldn't play along, he wouldn't be good and he wouldn't behave. This would end in doing nothing more than tire him, Yuuki would break him if he let him. He wouldn't give him the opportunity. No chance of redemption, just a silent punishment. Why was it then that with every lash, Yuuki's ass came back for more?

“Do you like S&M?” Uruha whispered, the grin Yuuki flashed him saying it all. Yuuki had deliberately tricked him into choosing him. He should be angry and yet, the part of him desperate to be loved was over joyed.

Dropping the whip Uruha released his belt and pulled out his hardened length. Yuuki was hard too he noticed, but he would be receiving no pleasure. Using just lube, for his benefit not his prisoners, Uruha forced his way into the warm tight heat that Yuuki had been offering to him for so long.

“Hate this, or it won't happen again.” Uruha whispered to Yuuki who instantly began to cry out for this to stop. An actor, that was what this man was. He'd fallen for his trap, lost control and yet wasn't punishing Yuuki far more rewarding than a man who despised him? For the first time in years, for the first time in this war, a man had called him beautiful and meant it. Uruha no longer cared that Yuuki was his enemy, that he was supposed to be in charge, his desire to find someone to complete him was so strong and Yuuki was so much like him. Perhaps he belonged with the enemy all along?

Yuuki was whimpering before him, crying out for mercy, apologising for what he had said. Acting the broken man so perfectly that hadn't it been for the way he pushed back to meet Uruha's forward thrusts he would have believed him. Yuuki understood the game, knew that appearances mattered far more than reality. Which was helpful, because the reality was too terrible to even speak off. Uruha was falling for this man who enjoyed being whipped, enjoyed every perversion Uruha had thrown at him.

An actor himself, Uruha pretended to cum, before leading Yuuki inside. This moment was too private, he no longer wanted to keep Yuuki on display. Within the darkness of the room they kissed, Yuuki clinging to him as he lifted the man up against the wall and took him again. This time Uruha thrust into him until he really had cum and was pulling away, panting for air. Everything had changed now, he wasn't sure what should happen next, though all that could happen was to send Yuuki back. This illusion of prisoner being punished by a guard couldn't show any cracks now, though it was as fake as the colour of Yuuki's hair.

He watched, a soft smile on his lips, as Yuuki stroked his own erection. Even now, especially now, Yuuki was beautiful and it would have been impossible for Uruha to tear his eyes away. With a gentle moan, Yuuki came and fell down to the floor, his energy spent. They didn't have long, that was what Uruha realised as he heard footsteps outside. They'd be waiting for him to kick Yuuki out, would have been waiting from the moment Uruha had dragged him back inside.

“What's the matter? Can't stand you piece of scum?” Uruha demanded, his tone harsh but his features gentle as he pulled out a bar of chocolate from his bedside table. Yuuki's eyes lit up in delight as he handed it to him, a rare treat in this war, but one he wanted Yuuki to have. He barked a few more insults at Yuuki who wore a cocky smile, knowing just how fake this performance was.

“You need to leave now.” Uruha whispered.

“I know.” Yuuki replied. “You'll pick me again?”

“Next time we'll have longer.” Uruha reassured him, a quick kiss on the lips and then he was back to showing Yuuki the door.

“Get dressed out here, you whore.” Uruha snarled at Yuuki, throwing the man's clothes out on top of him. He was at the mercy of the guards now who wouldn't be too kind to his pink haired friend as he dressed before them. He could here Yuuki whimpering through the door, the actor in him revealing himself once more. Pain and humiliation were aphrodisiacs to that man and whilst Uruha didn't understand it at all, he was glad to have found someone as twisted inside as he felt about himself.


End file.
